A Moment of Truth: A Complete Bonus Set (A Matter of Trust #1-2) (52 page)

His mischievous eyes slide to mine. “You’ll see. I’ve only just started with the surprises.” He takes my hand to lead me back to the limos.

“What?”

“I told you I love surprising you.”

We spend a few moments signing the official paperwork. After, Dan steps away to briefly speak to the driver of the limo he took. We say good-bye to Justice Anthony and Dan holds the door open for him to get in. It pulls out and away. Brad opens the door to our limo as Dan says, “Let’s go.”

I slide in with Dan scooting in after me. When Brad gets in I notice him grinning at me through the rearview mirror and I wonder if he knew, but I don’t ask. Instead, I grab Dan’s knee. “I love you,” I whisper and give him a quick kiss.

“I love you, too . . . so we have a little time before the paperwork is filed. Justice Anthony said he’d wait a day or so. Hopefully by then we’ll be at our destination. We’re flying on a private plane, and everyone involved will get an extra bonus after we make it there without public knowledge—right, Brad?”

Brad glances back in the mirror, smiling. “Yes, sir!” Dan raises the privacy screen.

I shake my head. “Do Camille and Bridget know?”

He reaches inside his jacket, pulls out his phone, and scrolls through the photos we just took on the ledge. “Want to send them this one?” Dan types a few words before handing it to me. “How’s this?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Chase . . . yes!”

“I believe Colin and Shane are at your apartment now, too,” he says with a wink and a smile.

“Oh my God—yes, they are!”

He sends it, and in a nanosecond, my phone is ringing. It’s Camille.

“Put it on speaker,” Dan says. “Hello?”

“Dan? Hi. It’s Camille. So, I’m, well—all of us here—are trying not to freak out or anything, but we need to know what this photo means—did you guys get engaged?” The anticipation in her voice is crystal clear. I hear Bridget yelling something in the background; Colin and Shane are shouting things, too, but I can’t make them out.

“Yes, we did, but then . . . we also got married,” I say. They shriek louder.

There’s a lot of shushing, then, “What?
What
? When?” Bridget asks with more shouting in the background.

“Like ten minutes ago. He proposed and then . . .” I look at Dan, who’s so damn proud of himself. “He had everything ready for us to marry on the spot!”

There’s group yelling. “Okay. Okay. We need details!” Camille says before quieting everyone on the other end of the line.

I shake my head, still in disbelief. “Well, I don’t know many details, but he had this whole thing planned—but it’s completely quiet and no one knows, so you can’t say a word to anyone! Dan’s hoping we can get to our honeymoon destination before anyone finds out.”

“Where’s that?” Camille asks.

“I have no idea.”

“Well, what will you be wearing?” Bridget asks as if my wardrobe matters right now. Then again, I do need some clothes.

I turn to Dan. “Yeah, what will I be wearing? Will we stop somewhere to buy me underwear and things?”

He laughs. “Funny you should ask . . . I knew when you were flying to L.A., and I knew Shane and Colin were taking Bridget and Camille out on their double date, so there was only a small window of time. I used the spare key you gave me to let myself into your apartment, and I packed some things for you.”

“Oh my God,” I say, dumbfounded.

“I hope I got the right things.”

“Me, too, although you probably packed my ugly clothes.”

“No, I packed the smallest clothes.” He snickers. “So, that said, Mrs. Chase has to go now. We’ll see you soon!” Dan says, laughing, his thumb hovering over the END button.

“Wait! Give me that phone,” says a male voice, followed by rustling.

“Hello, Claire. It’s Colin. Congratulations,” Colin says, sweetly, but something in his voice tells me there’s more. “Let me just say . . . I cannot believe your fucking
husband
knew Shane and I were going to be in New York and he avoided us just to get you some clothes and didn’t bother to tell us what he was about to do. Prick. After all this time.” Colin sighs dramatically.

“I’m sorry,” Dan says sincerely, followed by a snort. “Everything’s been under wraps, and I couldn’t risk anyone overhearing. Plus, I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

“You could have called! You’d better make it up to me. When will I see you so I can officially kick your arse?”

“Soon. I’ll text you to let you know. But soon,” Dan says, smirking at me.

“That’s it? That’s all I get? Soon? Fucking tell me, you git.”

With his free hand, Dan takes hold of mine—the one with my brand new, sparkling ring—and places it on his thigh. He stares at it while stroking the top of my hand gently, his thumb circling near my ring. “Sorry, I can’t. I’ve got surprises for Claire, and she’s sitting right here.”

“Yeah, well. You still owe me.”

“You’re right, I do.”

“Congrats, Claire, and see you soon, prick.”

Various voices shout, “Good-bye! Love you guys! Prick!”

We shout the same in return.

We hang up with them and I turn to Dan. “Can you give me a hint as to where we’re headed?”

“Nope.”

“When do you think it’ll become public?”

He leans in and pecks at my lips with his. “Two days, hopefully, but for now it’s just us . . . spouses.”

“Spouses,” I repeat. We kiss endlessly, and our hands run nearly all the bases.

“Stop.” He sits up suddenly, slides away from me, and runs his hand through his hair, exhaling deeply.

“What? Why are you stopping?” I sit up, too, breathing hard, and so very confused.

“Because. Our first time as a married couple cannot be in the back of a limo.”

“Um, you were ready to have sex in the middle of the street at Christmas!”

“My morals were loose then.”

I crack up. “Well, it’s a good thing I showed you the way.”

“Yeah. Good thing.” He straightens out his jacket, maintaining a good foot of distance.

I scoot a little closer and throw my legs over his. “Well, if you’re not going to have sex with me, then you should at least tell me how you planned all this.”

He strokes my legs softly. “Good distraction. Good distraction. Yeah.” He exhales again and continues. “So, after we talked that night you were drunk—”

My eyes widen. “Oh my God, did you do all this based on one drunk conversation?”

“Isn’t that what everyone does?” He makes a silly face at me then chuckles. “In all honesty, our drunk conversation struck the match, so to speak. I knew where I wanted our relationship to go, and during our conversation you seemed to be on the same page. And, yes, I know you were drunk, but I also know in the past when you’ve been drunk, you were more open, more forthcoming. But I still wasn’t one hundred percent sure you were ready to say yes, so I was taking a leap. A huge fucking leap. Hence, my inability to even look at you at the theater.”

“That’s why you looked away?” The pieces begin falling into place in my head.

“Yeah. It’s not every day I propose to the woman of my dreams.”

I shake my head at him as if he’s exaggerating.

“I’m serious. Anyway, I figured if I was going to go for it, I was going to make it unforgettable . . . like you. Hopefully, I’ve done that, so far anyway.”

“Yes . . .” I say softly as a wave of emotion washes over me.

“It’s why I had to avoid you these last couple of weeks. I was so afraid I’d spill something and ruin it all.”

“And here I thought you were planning to break up with me. You left my father’s party so abruptly and didn’t want to talk and . . . I was so worried. I thought maybe we couldn’t come back from the distance.”

He pauses, gazing at me a moment. “No,” he says, quietly shaking his head. “I’m sorry you thought that. I didn’t mean to hurt or worry you, but I needed time to plan things. I couldn’t have surprised you if I let on, could I?”

“That’s true. You just seemed angry when you left.”

“Well, I wasn’t thrilled that Mark was there, not to mention invited by your mom, but let’s just say if our drunk conversation struck the match then your father’s party lit the fuse. It’s when the whole thing came together for me. You said you couldn’t imagine your life without me, so it sealed the deal in my head. Plus, I wasn’t going to let anyone define us anymore. No more roadblocks so to speak. I already knew you were the one for me, so on my end it was time, and I just prayed that my gut was right—that you were ready, too.”

“Clearly your gut was right.” I hold up my ring finger.

***

Soon enough, we’re at the airport, but in a non-commercial section that I’ve never been to. Stepping out of the car, I look around. It may be nighttime, but the lights of the airport transform it to daytime. Brad takes two suitcases from the trunk, and we shake his hand before stepping over to an awaiting plane. The stairs are already lowered and waiting for us.

An airplane staffer nods hello and takes the bags, loading them as Dan takes my hand to lead me up the stairs.

“You’re amazing, Dan.”

“No, I’m Mr. Beautiful.” He makes a silly face and we laugh together.

Once inside, I look around at the large, leather seats, wood trim, and soft carpet. “This is quite luxurious.”

As we sit and buckle in, Dan says, “Honestly, I haven’t really had reason to spend lavishly on anything. I haven’t wanted to. Never needed anything, but this—marrying you, wanting to do this—made me want to spend every last dime to get it right.”

“So are you saying you’re poor now?”

“Yes. Dirt poor. I’ll kick back, and you can take care of me. I can be your man candy.”

“I’m more of an Everlasting Gobstopper kind of girl, and you’re more of a Hershey Kiss kind of guy—you know, small and only minimally satisfying.”

“I do have a lollipop that needs some sucking.”

“You’re shameless!” I say, laughing and swatting his shoulder. “So how long is the ride anyway?”

“Long.” We begin to taxi the runway.

“How precise of you.”

“You’re going to have to just go with the flow. YOLO, Claire, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah. YOLO.” The plane takes off, and it’s clear he’s not going to tell me anything, so I spend a few minutes playing with the seat, which fully reclines, while he watches me, amused. The sparkle from my brand new ring catches my eye, and I sit, staring at it, amazed that the last hour or so even happened. I’m sorting it all out in my mind when something dawns on me. “Where will we live? New York? L.A.?”

There he is with that wicked smile again. “Trust me. I’ve been steeped in this entire thing for weeks, planning every angle. I think you’ll like what I came up with, but if not, that’s okay. We’ll figure it out together.”

I smile wide, utterly content. “Yeah. Together.”

***

Soon enough, I fall asleep. Perhaps it’s all the momentous events and the stress, but I don’t wake until we’re nearly there, or so I’m told.

“We have about half an hour left,” Dan says as I sit up and stretch in my seat.

“How long have I been sleeping?”

He’s about to answer then catches himself. “A while.”

I shake my head at him. “Did you sleep at all?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m dying to know where we’re going.” I shift around. “And to get out of this dress.”

He smiles wickedly. “I can’t wait for that, too.”

The plane lands and I’m pretty much glued to the window for clues until we disembark. There’s a car—a limo—waiting for us on the tarmac. “A limo. I am highly impressed here.” He grins, holding the door open for me, and we both get in. As we drive along, I begin to see signs in another language, and I turn to him. “Are we in Italy?” I ask with baited breath.

“Yes, we are.”

“Oh my God! I’ve always wanted to go to Italy!” I bounce in my seat a bit.

“I know. That’s why we’re here.”

“What part are we in?”

“Florence.”

I slap my hands to my face as I burst into tears.

He pries my hands away. “Why are you crying?”

“I’ve always wanted to go to Italy. To Florence. Always. And we talked about it, what, once? And you remembered, and now, here we are!”

He kisses my hand. “And we’re going to see the David tomorrow.”

More tears, but each and every one is happy.

Soon enough we arrive at what looks like a very swanky hotel and get out of our limo. As if the staff is expecting us, which with the way things have gone so far, they probably are, they whisk us inside and to our room. It’s spacious with a clean, modern flair that overlooks the
Ponte Vecchio
.

I’m drawn to the large balcony that opens from the living room, and step outside to the dark skies and twinkling lights reflected in the Arno River below. “My God,” I whisper, gripping the marble rail. There’s a light, cool breeze that makes my skin shiver, but I don’t move. I can’t move actually. I’m so overwhelmed.

A rush of warmth and soap-and-shaving-cream scent engulfs me from behind. Dan’s body gently presses against mine as his hands slide down my arms and intertwines his fingers with mine. His lips press small, soft kisses up to the back of my ear, while he wiggles one hand into my hair to take it down. One bobby pin. Then two. Another bobby pin and another kiss, and on it goes until my hair unravels itself. He turns me around to face him, running his hand through my hair. “My beautiful wife.”

“My Mr. Beautiful.” His arms lock tight around my waist, and his mouth is on mine before I can say another word. My arms link around his neck, returning every ounce of passion and love and commitment.

Somehow, without breaking our kiss, we blindly shuffle inside the room, lit only by the moon and twinkling lights reflected in the river. But it’s enough. Enough to see my love, enough to feel him, and enough to hear him whispering my name.

“Ow,” he mumbles when he bumps his leg on the side of the chair as we pass.

We rotate a bit and I whack my hip on the side of the sofa. “Ugh.”